|  Linda Cronin IN THE BEGINNINGFor weeks, I try to concealthe limp distorting my stride,
 making it difficult to run during a recess,
 to skip during lunchtime. Each doctor
 my parents drag me to, specialist after
 specialist demands to know when
 I fell and twisted my foot. Did I jump
 off my bed? Or down the stairs?
 Not until my fingers start to swell,
 inflating like tiny balloons,
 does anyone suspect the truth.
 The pediatrician, my doctor sincebirth, first says the words,
 rheumatoid arthritis, as a possibility.
 Only seven, I hear their rhythm and sound,
 awkward and unusual. I laugh at them
 repeating them until my mother tells
										me
 to stop. Those two words adhere to me.
 A label lasting for years after the sound
 of the voice fades, like a price sticker
										on glass
 the residue remaining long after
 the original disappears.
 That day, perched like a bird ready to fly away, I sit on the examining table in the tissue-thin
												paper gown,
 too young to understand what’s happening to me.
 I imagine old people, white-haired and
										wrinkled,
 smelling of peppermints and dust, stiff
										and cranky,
 hobbling from place to place,
 clutching their canes. Not seeing myself,
										my future,
 the stiffness of my joints, the trouble
 walking, running, the doctors’ visits,
 The needles. Not realizing
 how my body would change,
 ignoring me as I begged my legs
 to work, my hands to bend and grip
 my body betraying me,
 turning on itself, attacking my bones
 and joints until they disintegrate
 into ashes and dust.
 Each day presenting new challenges, different battles than the day before:
 climbing stairs of the school bus,
 zipping me coat, brushing my hair.
 As time passes, the memory of that
 first day in the doctor’s office fades,
 erased by all the visits that follow.
 Until years later, sitting in the park,
 watching leaves fly through the air
 like confetti, I recall those beginning
										days
 And how lost I felt, tumbling
 through space, uncertain where
 I would land, and if I could find my
										way
 through the crooked currents to come.
 Linda A. Cronin, a poet and writer of fiction, recently completed
		her first poetry collection. Diagnosed as a child with rheumatoid arthritis,
		she expresses herself and explores the issues she faces through writing. Her
		work has appeared in The Patterson Literary Review , Kaleidoscope, The
		Journal of New Jersey Poets, Rattle and Lips. |